Things That Go Boom In The Night
by Kendris
Summary: A prequel (of sorts) to What Matters The Most, set in BG1. When Jessime and friends find themselves short of cash, they take on a routine job that becomes anything but routine. COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

_Author's Note: This was originally intended to be a flashback in Chapter 6 of What Matters The Most, but it expanded. I think I've managed to contain it at short story level – about four chapters._

_With WMTM rolling onward with no end in sight, I thought that it might be nice to finish something. Other such side trips may follow as they suggest themselves. If nothing else, it'll give me something to work on when I run into a brick wall with the main story. Hope you like it. _

_A couple of minor changes to this chapter, mainly dealing with bringing Dynaheir's dialect up to Dominique's exacting standards (sheesh, woman, do you know how bloody long it's been since I've played BG1? I'm flying this thing by the seat of my pants!)_

* * *

"Another sewer?" Jaheira complained as she followed Jessime into the weapon merchant's shop. "Why must you continually drag us through such filthy places?"

"Three reasons," Jess replied shortly. "It's easy, it's quick and it pays."

"I do not know that we need money so badly," the druid grumbled. "It is bad enough that we must spend so much time in this city. Could you not at least find us employment _above_ ground?"

"We've only been here for a week, Jaheira," Jess reminded her. "And with current prices, we're going to go broke by sunset if we don't bring in some coin."

"Another reason to avoid cities," Jaheira sniffed disdainfully. "The cost of food and lodging is outrageous. Even the merchants of Beregost did not gouge their customers so badly."

Jess held her temper with an effort. "This is where the trail of the Iron Throne has led us, so this is where we stay until we can get more information – unless you like having your weapons disintegrate in your hands."

Her logic obviously did not appeal to the druid, who opened her mouth to continue her litany of complaint.

Jess cut her off. "Enough! This is the opportunity that has presented itself, and I took it. Am I the leader of this group or not?"

Jaheira glared at her. "Of course, omnipresent authority figure," she snapped in a voice laden with sarcasm. Jess returned the glare, a heated retort forming on her lips.

"I like it here," Imoen piped up cheerfully as she appeared at Jess' elbow.

The tall warrior glanced down at the little thief. "You'll like it a lot less if the Flaming Fist catches you picking pockets," she warned, though without rancor. She knew the reason for the interruption.

Imoen grinned impishly. "They gotta catch me at it first – and then they gotta catch me!"

Jess returned the grin in spite of herself. Glancing at Jaheira, she saw the druid shaking her head in half-amused resignation, raising one eyebrow in an unvoiced question that Jess understood immediately: _Truce?_

Jess shrugged, then nodded, knowing that her reply would be likewise understood: _Truce…for now._

Jaheira nodded curtly and turned away. Jess immediately turned her attention to evaluating the rack of swords before her. The replacement of weapons destroyed by the iron rot, plus the necessity of keeping backup weapons always on hand, was another expense that was rapidly adding up. She picked up a longsword, squinting down the blade, searching for any hint of deterioration. Satisfied, she laid it to one side, picking up another.

"Sure wish you two wouldn't fight," Imoen said carefully, examining a short sword.

"Don't start," Jess warned, scowling at her.

Imoen was unaffected. "It doesn't do anything but get you both mad, and then the rest of us have to watch you both stomping around."

"Then get her to stop second-guessing everything I do!" Jess snapped irritably. "I can't even sneeze without hearing how I'm doing it wrong."

"That's what she's supposed to do," Imoen answered. "She and Khalid told Gorion they'd look after you."

"I don't need looking after!" Jess growled. "Maybe I did at first – all right, I did at first," she amended hastily, seeing Imoen roll her eyes, "although you weren't any better."

"At least I had the sense to stay hidden and attack from behind," Imoen said. "Who was it who tried to take on a whole squad of orcs on her own three days out from the Friendly Arms?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Jess retorted, flushing at the memory.

"Only because Jaheira and Khalid were there to back you up. And me, of course," Imoen added modestly, buffing her fingernails on the shoulder of her tunic.

Jess brushed mahogany hair out of her eyes, combing it back with the fingers of her hand, glaring at her friend, then gave up; she couldn't get mad at Imoen. "All right, I needed looking after more than you did – then. But, dammit, I can best Jaheira better than half the time when we practice, and Khalid almost as much!"

"Leading is more than fighting, Jess," Imoen observed.

"You think I don't know that?" Jess demanded. "It's also making sure that our damn weapons don't fall apart in the middle of a fight for our lives, or that if they do, we have some for backup. It's also making sure that we have enough money to eat and sleep somewhere besides the streets, which means taking crappy jobs if that's all that's available, and then listening to that damn druid bitch about it."

"She's not going to be the only one," Imoen observed, her eyes going to a point behind Jess. Turning, Jess saw Dynahier bearing down on her purposefully.

"Jessime, Minsc informs me that thou hast found gainful employment for us," the dusky skinned mage announced as she swept up. From the corner of her eye, Jess saw Imoen withdrawing with an amused smirk on her lips. "'Tis my hope that it will provide sufficient recompense to allow us to relocate from our current accommodations." The fastidious Rashemi witch had been less than pleased with the inn that their present finances allowed them to stay in.

_And she's going to be thrilled about this,_ Jess thought, bracing herself. "It's a start, at least, Dynahier," she told her. "The – sanitation workers – of Baldur's Gate have been having trouble with carrion crawlers, and they've asked us to deal with them."

"Sanitation workers? Thou speak of the sewer cleaners?" While Dynahier was nowhere near as vocal as Jaheira, it was amazing just how much she could express with the imperious arch of one eyebrow. "Sewers, indeed," she sighed, her expression growing martyred. "Jessime, thy ambitions are far too small! A group as skilled as ours should be receiving only the most prestigious commissions!"

"We've got to start somewhere, Dynahier," Jess explained. "Once we get a reputation here – which won't be long – the jobs will start improving. We'll move to a better inn as soon as we can, I promise."

The mage sighed again. "It cannot happen too soon," she replied, "and while I do not relish the notion of wading through the refuse of this city," she punctuated her words with a delicate shudder, "thou art likely correct; we must provide evidence of our skill in small endeavors before we shall be entrusted with larger ones. But mistake me not, Jessime," her dark eyes fixed Jess with a piercing gaze, "we _are_ above this task."

"You'll get no argument from me on that score," Jess replied with a smile, as the mage drifted toward a display of staffs.

"That went well," Imoen murmured behind her, echoing her thoughts. "I thought she'd go up in smoke at the idea."

"So did I," Jess replied. "Nice to know that someone trusts my judgment."

Imoen smacked her smartly upside the head. "Stop that!" she said, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. "You know I trust you."

"I know that," Jess admitted.

"And Minsc and Khalid trust you, don't they?" Imoen pressed.

"Minsc trusts anyone," Jess snorted, "as long as Boo tells him to. And Khalid is – well, he's Khalid."

Imoen smacked her again. "Then if four of the five of your merry little group trust you, why are you letting yourself get bent out of shape over one, you goof?"

"Dammit, Im, that hurts!" Jess yelped, rubbing her head where Imoen had struck her.

"Wimp," Imoen smirked.

"I am not!"

"Are too!" the thief crowed in a singsong voice, eyes dancing with mischief.

"Oh, gods, Im, don't start that right now!" Jess exclaimed, but she found herself smiling in response to her friend's teasing.

"I won't if you stop being such a stick in the mud. Promise?"

"Promise," Jess agreed, knowing that the alternative was a scene right out of their preteen years at Candlekeep. "Now why don't you make yourself useful as well as annoying and see if they've got any sharpening stones?"

"No problem," Imoen replied cheerfully.

"And pay for them, dammit!" Jess added before Imoen could leave, her voice pitched low enough that only the thief could hear her.

"You never let me have any fun," Imoen pouted as she walked away, but Jess knew that she would comply.

She turned back to her inspection of the swords, feeling much of her improved mood vanish along with her friend. Imoen had always been able to push back her darkest moods, but since Gorion's death, the dark moods had become darker, harder to banish. Small things would cause her temper to flare up, which was, she admitted to herself, part of the reason for her stormy relationship with Jaheira. The criticisms that Imoen took in stride would goad Jess into an icy rage. Part of the reason that her fighting had improved as much as it had over the past year and a half was her determination to do _something_ that the druid would not be able to find fault with.

_Not that it's happened so far_, she thought moodily. _Nothing is ever quite good enough, which brings you back to Imoen's question: why do you give a damn about gaining approval from someone who's obviously never going to give it to you? What does it matter?_

"Jess?" Minsc loomed over her, Boo perched on his shoulder. "Can I get some of these arrows? Boo thinks they would work well on our mission tonight."

"Sure, Minsc," Jess replied absently, lost in her own musings. "Whatever you need, just stay within our budget."

"Okay," the big man said happily, turning to bear down on the apprehensive looking shopkeeper with his merchandise in hand.

Jess barely noticed his departure. _When you get right down to it, why do you stick around at all? You and Imoen would do just fine on your own now, and with a lot fewer headaches._

The thought lacked conviction, however, and Jess knew that she would not act on it. It was true that she and Imoen could survive on their own, but tracking down the Iron Throne would require the skills of the whole group, and it was not a mission that she would abandon. It was not just about ending the iron rot that was plaguing the Sword Coast; it had become increasingly obvious that Gorion's murder led back to the Iron Throne, as well, for reasons unknown. Jess would do whatever it took to track down the killers of the man who had been the only father she had ever known – even if it meant putting up with the sarcastic comments of a know-it-all druid.

_But that's not the whole reason, is it?_ Jess admitted to herself. _Gorion wanted you to be with them: Khalid and Jaheira both._ She still missed the elderly mage desperately; the necessity of leaving his body unburied outside of Candlekeep was a guilt that gnawed at her. Gorion had known the two half-elves, had thought highly enough of them that he had left Jessime in their care. In a world that had become a constant barrage of uncertainty and upheaval, the pair were a link, however tenuous, to the memory of stability and safety.

Khalid had largely assumed the mentor's role that had been left vacant with Gorion's death. Despite the stutter, he was as calm as his wife was volatile, and possessed of apparently inexhaustible patience. He was also an extraordinarily skilled fighter, equally competent with sword or bow, and was more than willing to teach those skills, as well as myriad others that he had learned in his twenty year career as a ranger and a Harper.

He preferred to remain in the background, and to the casual observer, it might seem that he deferred to his more outspoken spouse. Jess, however, did not miss the frequent glances that passed between the two, or the fact that Jaheira seldom proposed a course of action without a nod of approval from her husband.

Jess had come to rely upon Khalid as someone she could talk to, seek advice from, and entrust with her doubts and fears. She did not want to lose that. _So you'll just have to live with Jaheira_, she told herself._ You don't have to like her, but you do have a lot that you still need to learn from her. Sooner or later, if you keep working, you're bound to get good enough that she'll at least quit bitching._

_You hope._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes_

_Snackfiend - Yes, you posted the first review. Your free toaster is in the mail._

_Dominique - Prithee, most excellent and wise sage, I have striven to the utmost to implement thy suggestions for the improvement of my humble tale. I pray that thou wilt find my meager efforts satisfactory. (Translation, for those who don't speak High Arendish: "Yo, Domi! I actually did all your suggested edits for once! Hope you like it!)_

* * *

Jaheira stood staring absently at the spear in her hands, her thoughts brooding. She was aware of Khalid's approach; when he simply stood silently beside her, she raised her gaze to find him watching her with a faint smile.

"What?" she wanted to know.

"I was just thinking that that m-must be a remarkable weapon, to warrant f-five minutes of inspection." As was generally the case when they were alone, his stutter was so light as to be barely noticeable. "Or are you simply l-lost in thought?"

"I was just wondering why it is impossible for me to have a conversation with that girl without it degenerating into hostility," she sighed.

"As I understand it, s-such c-conflicts are a normal part of the mother-daughter relationship at this stage," he told her, a slight twinkle in his grey eyes.

She gave him what was meant to be her most withering glare, though he remained noticeably un-withered. "That option was closed to us years ago," she reminded him pointedly. "My concern now is fulfilling our promise to Gorion, which means keeping that stubborn child alive to fulfill the potential that he saw in her. Though how we will accomplish that is beyond me," she muttered darkly. "She grows more headstrong by the day."

_Like mother, like daughter_, Khalid thought fondly, though he was wise enough not to give voice to the thought. "If by keeping her alive, you mean that you intend to d-drive her into a convent in search of peace and quiet, you are well on your way," he warned her, his voice as gentle as always, though his eyes had grown serious.

"What would you have me do?" she demanded in frustration.

"You might t-try an occasional word of praise," he suggested. "She has made considerable progress in her weapons training."

"I'll give her praise when she has earned it," she snapped. "Granted, she has some skill with a blade, but she is still far too impulsive, too ready to trust in her luck."

"Her instincts have been good thus far," Khalid observed.

"Instincts can be wrong, Khalid; you know that," she scolded him. "If we continue to allow her to rely solely on them, sooner or later Tymora will desert her. She'll get herself killed – or one of us." She let her breath out in a hiss of frustration. "I'm not suited for this task, Khalid; I never thought that we would be doing this without Gorion. He told her nothing of herself, of her heritage."

"He never expected to d-die before meeting with us," Khalid replied with a shrug, his expression becoming melancholy.

"I know that," she said, distressed at having caused him pain. "It's just that –" she shook her head, searching for the words. "I seem able only to provoke the anger that we should be teaching her to control." She stared across the shop to where Jess, the fall of her dark hair obscuring her face, selected swords to replace those lost to iron rot. An image of a toddler with dark curls and wide green eyes flashed across her memory, but she pushed it resolutely away. That time was gone, and if there was one thing that she had learned in her life, it was that the past could not be reclaimed. "Perhaps you should take over her training entirely."

"No." Khalid's response was unhesitating and firm. "I can teach her what I know, but there are things that she will be able to learn only from you."

"If she will listen to me."

"She will; she _does_," he assured her with a smile. "She could have stopped training with you months ago, but she hasn't. She wants to l-learn from you; she wants your approval." He held up a restraining hand as she started to protest. "I do not want you to give insincere praise, but at least think about what you are criticizing her for. Is it really her fault that we are in this city, or that the first jobs available to us are less than desirable?"

"No," Jaheira admitted with a heavy sigh. "You are right. It is just that I feel so – suffocated here, and it does not appear that we will be leaving any time soon. It was wrong of me to take my frustration out on her."

Her husband nodded understandingly. "I would p-prefer to be in the forest myself, but this is where the hunt has led us."

They gathered at the front of the shop, and Jess distributed the weapons she had selected. Jaheira successfully resisted the urge to examine the two scimitars that were given to her, though she knew that she would do so once she and Khalid were alone in their room. Khalid's half smile told her that he had noticed her restraint.

"All right," Jess said, "carrion crawlers are most active at night, so I suggest that we go back to the inn and get what rest we can before sundown." She glanced at Jaheira as she finished speaking, the set of her jaw and the defiant flash in her eyes saying plainly that she expected an argument.

_Have I really become so predictable, then?_ the druid wondered. Aloud, she said, "It is a sound plan. Carrion crawlers are not difficult to kill as a rule, but it is always best to rest before a battle when possible."

Jess blinked in surprise, her gaze shifting to Khalid, the question in her eyes obvious. _Is she feeling all right?_

Jaheira could not help but marvel at the irony. In many ways, she and Jessime were alike – so much so that they could read each other's expressions almost as easily as she and Khalid could – but in so many other ways they were so different that the teenager might as well have come from another plane. _She will turn to Khalid, at least, and just as well. I am not suited to being a mother._

"Thy plan is a good one," Dynahier proclaimed. "Although I would much prefer to rest in a bed stuffed with something besides insect-infested straw," she added, wrinkling her nose distastefully.

"Soon, Dynahier," Jess assured her with a smile that irritated the druid. If Jaheira had made such a comment, the girl would have reacted with anger. "A couple more decent paying jobs and we'll be able to move."

"Boo likes where we are staying," Minsc said cheerfully. "The mice keep him company at night while we are sleeping."

"If he wants to invite any of the ones from our room to yours, he's welcome to," Imoen said with a grimace. "Found one in my boot this morning."

Jess snickered. "Didn't know you could jump that high. Scared of a little mouse…"

"Was not!" Imoen exclaimed indignantly.

"Were too," Jess replied smugly.

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

Jaheira suppressed a groan, looking hopefully at her husband. Khalid's tolerant smile told her that she would have to suffer through this foolishness, though what value he saw in such childish behavior was beyond her.

Dynahier saved her. "Children!" she exclaimed, stepping between the bickering pair. "Can such displays not wait until we are in the privacy of our rooms? How may we hope to be taken seriously as adventurers if thy public behavior is that of squabbling children?"

Jess and Imoen exchanged identical mischief-filled glances.

"All right," Jess agreed contritely.

"We'll be good," Imoen chimed in.

The mage turned away, a satisfied smile on her face.

"But she started it," Imoen muttered.

"Did not," Jess replied with a grin.

Dynahier spun back around, eyes flashing dangerously, but the pair were already out the door, hooting with laughter. She turned to Khalid, her expression disapproving. "I wonder sometimes if 'tis truly wise to have one so young in a role of leadership."

"S-she is s-s-serious when she n-needs to b-be," Khalid replied. "L-let them p-play while they c-c-can. W-with all that they have b-been through, I'm g-glad they c-can still laugh."

Dynahier regarded him thoughtfully. "Mayhap thou art right," she conceded.

Jessime and Imoen were waiting for them outside the shop, watching as a gaggle of young nobles passed by on the opposite side of the street, their laughter and chatter all but drowning out all other noises in the neighborhood.

At least Jess and Imoen were not like that bunch, Jaheira reflected, looking with disgust at the clothing – all riotous colors and flamboyant bows and ruffles – that seemed to be the current fashion. _Not a thought in their heads except what to wear to the next night's ball._

Jess eyed the group with an expression of mild contempt, but Jaheira thought that she could also see a trace of – what? Regret? Envy? _She is the same age as most of them appear to be,_ she realized. _Only seventeen. Two years ago, she might not have been so different from them, but now? She has seen the murder of her father, been driven from the only home she has ever known, fought for her life time and again, risked her own life to save the lives of others. Put her in one of those ridiculous outfits, and she would still stand out among them like a falcon among sparrows. She might well envy them their ability to walk down the street without constantly watching behind, to sleep without first setting up a watch. She can never regain the innocence that has been lost – and she may have just realized that for the first time._

Jess became aware of her scrutiny and turned away, her expression closed.

Imoen grinned impudently at the druid. "See, Jaheira, it could be worse. You could be stuck with a couple of _them_." She jerked a thumb in the direction of the departing horde.

"They wouldn't last five minutes outside the city," Jess growled. "Useless fops."

Dynahier chuckled. "Thou, of course, wast never so young and foolish, I take it?"

Jess shook her head, all traces of her earlier merriment gone. "Not since I was about two." Turning, she headed back in the direction of the inn.

Jaheira stared after her, her thoughts fifteen years in the past, remembering a small hand resting trustingly in her own. _Not even then, Jessime. Not even then._


	3. Chapter 3

Jess stepped off the ladder into the muck that coated the ground in the sewers, trying to disengage her sense of smell. Backing away to allow the others room to descend, she fought the urge to go on alone. Carrion crawlers would not be difficult opponents, and after several days of mundane activity, she was ready for combat.

The first time her fingers had grasped the hilt of a sword, it had felt _right_, natural in a way that nothing in her life had felt until that moment. The limited training that she had received before leaving Candlekeep had only begun to hone that aptitude into true skill; a year and a half under the tutelage of the two half-elven Harpers had increased her abilities immeasurably. Despite Jaheira's unceasing criticism, Jessime knew that she was good – better than good, really – and that she would continue to improve with further training.

Her right hand dropped to the hilt of the sword at her hip, her pulse quickening in anticipation. Fighting was the one thing required of her that came without effort, and in combat, all the myriad concerns of leadership that crowded her mind day after day faded into the background. Combat was simple: there was only you and your opponent. You killed your opponent, or you would be killed.

Of course, at the conclusion of a battle, all her duties and worries returned faithfully to the roosting places they had abandoned, but Jess was willing to accept even a brief respite from their pressures.

The others descended one by one. Minsc was next, his strong arms reaching out to steady Dynahier as she stepped away from the ladder. The witch lifted the hem of her robe, wrinkling her nose in distaste as she stepped to the side. She murmured a spell, the words rolling off her tongue in a musical lilt, and the top of her staff flared with light, settling into a steady glow that reflected off of the damp, mold covered tunnel walls.

Imoen scampered down the ladder with the ease of a squirrel in an oak tree; Jaheira followed her, with Khalid bringing up the rear.

"Just once, I would like to do battle in a place that is warm, dry and well lit," the druid grumbled.

"Evil is hard to find in such places; it likes the dank and dark," Minsc observed, the muscles in his arms bulging as he strung his massive longbow. Jess was far from weak, but the one time she had attempted to draw it, she had been unable to bend the heavy yew arms even an inch.

She consulted the map that had been provided to her by the foreman of the sewer workers, whose job it was to keep refuse from clogging the drainage tunnels. "The north tunnel should get us to where we need to be," she decided, glancing up at the hatch through which they had descended, visualizing the layout of the streets above to orient herself.

"This one, then," Khalid said confidently, striding toward the dark mouth of the nearest tunnel. Dynahier fell in beside him, the light from her staff driving back the shadows as she advanced, all signs of reticence gone as she focused on the task at hand. Jess followed, content to trust the ranger's unfailing sense of direction.

They heard the crawlers before they saw them; the wet noise they made sliding across the floor – and each other – filtered out of the darkness ahead of them, and the smell of rotting flesh grew stronger, overpowering the background stench of sewage. Beside her, Imoen gagged; Jess swallowed hard and tried to breathe through her mouth. As their name implied, carrion crawlers fed upon decaying corpses. The sewers of Baldur's Gate were a popular dumping ground for bodies, but judging from the smell and the number of creatures that had been reported by the sewer cleaners, the amount of carrion in this area was significantly greater than normal.

They emerged from the tunnel into one of the hubs; clay pipes large enough to accommodate Minsc crossed the ceiling overhead. On the floor of the large round chamber, a dozen carrion crawlers, their hides pale and gleaming wetly in the light from Dynahier's staff, writhed mindlessly among a heap of bodies. Arms and legs jutted randomly from the pile, bone gleaming white where the flesh had been eaten away. How many bodies? Jess estimated at least a score,in varying stagesof deterioration. How had they come to be here?

_Not our problem right now,_ she decided, drawing her swords. Dynahier propped her staff against the wall, maintaining its light while freeing her hands for spellcasting. Blunt weapons had little effect on carrion crawlers; their fleshy, boneless bodies simply absorbed the force of the blows. It was generally necessary to hack them into pieces – and small pieces, at that, as the creatures had an irritating habit of regenerating. A disgusting task, but easy enough.

"Dynahier, burn them when we're done," she said. The witch nodded; this was a routine that had worked for them before. Using the Burning Hands spell, she could incinerate the pieces left by the fighters, virtually eliminating the chances of regeneration. It would have been nice if she could have simply cast a fireball into the chamber, Jess reflected, but the skin of the live creatures was surprisingly tough and resistant to fire.

"Watch the mandibles, Jess," Jaheira warned as they advanced. Jess resisted the urge to tell the druid that she was well aware that the bite of the crawlers was paralytic. _Someday she's going to forget to treat me like an infant and the world will end._

Imoen was to her left, short sword in one hand and dagger in the other. Khalid and Jaheira were on her right, moving with a unity made possible by nearly two decades of partnership. Dynahier hung back slightly, waiting until her spells were needed.

Jess realized that Minsc had remained at the mouth of the tunnel, and she realized now the significance of him stringing his longbow earlier. Odd; he usually enjoyed being in the thick of a melee, his greatsword flashing with a speed that would have been impossible if not for his phenomenal strength. Then she remembered the arrows that he had asked to buy yesterday. _He must want to try them out_, she thought, then her brow furrowed in puzzlement. _Arrows usually aren't that effective against crawlers, and he knows it. I wonder what kind he found –_

_KA-BOOM!_

The first detonation knocked her off her feet. A crawler on the left side of the pile exploded, spraying her and Imoen with ichor, flesh, and bits of the decaying body that it had been feeding on. A second and third crawler exploded in rapid succession.

_KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!_

Pipes shattered overhead, showering them with shards of clay and foul smelling sludge. Jess instinctively threw herself over Imoen. _Exploding arrows. He bought exploding arrows. And you told him he could get them, you idiot! _Later. She could kick herself later; right now she had to put a stop to this before he brought the street above down on their heads.

Everything went suddenly silent, and Jess thought for a moment that Minsc had stopped; a fresh splattering of gore indicated otherwise. Apparently she had been struck deaf by an arrow that had exploded too closely to her. Still shielding Imoen, she looked around wildly for the ranger as the ground trembled with fresh detonations.

He was where they had left him, standing at the edge of the hub, eyes wide with the delight of a child watching his first fireworks display, mouth open in a laugh that would have been completely lost in the noise of the explosions even if Jess hadn't been deafened. He was completely oblivious to the collateral damage being done by his new toys; as Jess watched, he released another arrow. More gore, more sewage, but this time it was accompanied by a shower of rubble from above. She glanced up, felt her heart skip a beat as she saw the cracks forming in the ceiling. _Got to stop him or we're all dead!_

Khalid moved first. He had obviously come to the same conclusion that Jess had: trying to get Minsc's attention by shouting would be a wasted effort. Sprinting across the hub, he lowered his head and dove forward, hitting the much larger Rashemi squarely in the midsection.

He might as well have tried to knock over an oak tree. Minsc rocked backward ever so slightly, but was otherwise unmoved. He did lower his bow, however, staring at the half-elf in bafflement as Khalid planted himself squarely in front of him, his arms waving wildly, the message clear: _Stop!_

She rolled off of Imoen and the little thief scrambled to her feet, wide-eyed and ready to run for cover. Her gaze fell on Minsc and comprehension flooded her features. She rolled her eyes toward Jess, questioning: _Where in the Nine Hells did he get **those**?_

Jess managed a weak shrug, glancing around to take stock of the damage. The carrion crawlers were all dead, and regeneration didn't look like something they would have to worry about; the largest piece that she could identify was the size of her hand. The bodies upon which they had been feeding had also been thoroughly dismembered, with limbs, heads and assorted unidentifiable pieces scattered from one side of the hub to the other. The sewers themselves were going to require extensive repairs, and Jess realized with a sinking feeling that they were unlikely to realize any profit from this venture. The pipes overhead had been completely destroyed, sludge dripping from the broken ends, and significant damage had been done to the masonry of the walls and ceiling.

Miraculously, no one seemed to have been seriously injured. _Although in my case, that's probably going to be a temporary condition,_ she thought glumly, watching Jaheira drag herself to her feet. The druid had apparently been quite close to one of the explosions; her eyebrows and the front of her hair appeared to have been singed away, and the front of her leather armor was still smouldering. Sewer sludge and bits of carrion crawler covered her from head to toe, and her face looked like a thundercloud on the verge of releasing an epic storm.

Off to the left, Dynahier emerged from the side tunnel in which she had taken refuge. She seemed to have escaped the worst of the gore, but had apparently either dived or fallen headlong into a puddle of sewage. Her normally meticulously coiffed hair was dripping and in complete disarray, her robe plastered to her, and her expression was that of one who has been mortally offended.

Crazy Minsc undoubtedly was; stupid he was not. As the two women converged purposefully on him, his eyes widened in alarm and he drew back fearfully.

Jess stayed where she was, waiting with the patience of one justly condemned. She still could not hear a sound, but from the plaintive expression on Minsc's face in response to the scorching reprimand he was receiving, she knew the defense that he would – rightly – offer:

_Jess told me I could get them!_

Two heads snapped around to glare at her in unison, but what cut the deepest was Khalid's scowl of surprise and stern disapproval, by far the most severe that he had ever directed at her. _And I deserve it. Someone could have died._

'_Someone' could still be me._ She held her ground as Jaheira and Dynahier advanced, but as she looked down, half hoping to find a hole opening in the earth beneath her, her attention was caught by a gleam in the muck at her feet.

A ruby. And a few inches away, an emerald. And a diamond.

Her eyes followed the trail of gems to a leather pouch that lay with its side seam ruptured, spilling its glittering contents onto the slime covered ground.

_Maybe I could bribe my way out of this, _she thought, trying to calculate the value of the stones that she could see. Enough to move to a better inn, certainly. Maybe even enough to buy an inn outright. _Well, maybe they'll use some of it to give me a decent burial._


	4. Chapter 4

Jess sat on the roof of the Silver Unicorn Inn, staring up at the night sky, her eyes easily picking out the constellations that she had first been shown by Gorion from the heights of the watchtower at Candlekeep. The Hunter. The Dragon. The Weeping Maiden. The legends associated with each of them unspooled in her memory, and she felt some wonder that the stars and the stories could remain unchanged when virtually every other aspect of her life had been altered almost beyond recognition.

Including herself.

She felt the vibration as someone stepped onto the roof from the window behind her, smiled as a slight scuffling and muffled curse announced that Khalid had slipped on the slate tiles of the moderately inclined slope. A moment later, the half elf joined her, seating himself gingerly.

"I'd leave the rooftop work to Imoen, if I were you," she advised him.

"She's welcome to it," he agreed with a grimace. "I'll take the ground under my feet any d-day." He looked up at the stars for a long moment. "We m-missed you at dinner."

Jess shrugged. "Wasn't hungry." She paused, then asked hesitantly, "Jaheira – she's all right, isn't she?" After they had regrouped, the druid's scorching had proven to be the worst of the injuries sustained. They had seemed relatively mild at the time, but Jess had not seen her since they had moved from the vermin-infested inn where they had been staying to their present location, one of the best establishments in Baldur's Gate. She sighed with relief as Khalid nodded.

"She's f-fine," he said, then gave her a sly sideways glance before adding, "She even came up with a spell to regrow her hair."

Jess groaned, dropping her head onto her knees, but he chuckled quietly and patted her shoulder. "It's all right," he assured her. "You made the best k-kind of mistake: one where no one got seriously hurt."

"The best kind of mistake is one that doesn't get made," she disagreed with him.

"If you're not making any mistakes, you're n-not trying," he advised her seriously. "The important thing is to learn from the mistakes that you make." He paused, then asked, "So, what did you learn tonight?"

She snorted, shaking her head. "That I have no business being a leader." She cut him off as he started to reply. "Khalid, someone could have died tonight! Jaheira could have been killed because I was thinking of other things when I should have been paying attention to what Minsc was getting!"

"Perhaps Minsc is a greater liability than asset, then," Khalid suggested in an off-hand tone. "There are other warriors to be found in Baldur's Gate, more stable. Perhaps one of them would be better suited to our quest?"

She gave him an incredulous look, but his expression was unreadable. "It wasn't his fault!" she protested. "He may need some supervision, but he's got a heart of gold. And he's a damn good fighter; finding someone who can use a sword and a bow as well as he can would be hard. Besides," she continued, "if we lose him, we'll lose Dynaheir, as well. Do you really want me to have to find another spellcaster as well as a fighter?"

"No," Khalid admitted with a smile, "but I wanted to see how you would respond to the suggestion. You answered the way a leader would, analyzing his strengths and weaknesses and looking at the larger picture as well as what was right in front of you. Nice job." As often happened when he was teaching her, his stutter had vanished entirely.

She glared at him. "I hate it when you do that," she grumbled. "I don't know why I'm leading, anyway. Either you or Jaheira would do a better job."

"Gorion wanted us to teach you," he replied simply. "A good leader can also follow when necessary, but one who only knows how to follow will be lost when there is no one to lead. Jaheira and I may not always be with you."

"That's not going to happen anytime soon, is it?" Jess asked, feeling a twinge of alarm. If Jaheira were angry enough about tonight's debacle...

"Not willingly, no," he assured her, then sighed, his face somber and eyes distant, "but it's a chancy life that we lead, and not all partings are willing." Realizing that the conversation had taken a melancholy turn, he changed the subject. "Did the sewer cleaners have any idea what all those b-bodies were doing there?"

Jess nodded. "I spoke to the foreman. He said that they had heavy rains a few days before we got here. The sewers flooded, and the place we were in was a low spot, so stuff tends to collect there, anyway. With the floods, all the dead bodies got washed out of the tunnels and fetched up there, against one of the grates. Perfect breeding place for carrion crawlers."

Khalid looked dubious. "There were a l-lot of bodies down there."

"There've been more," Jess told him. "The foreman said they've been pulling two or three a day out of the sewers, and those are just the ones that they find. The Iron Throne has been busy."

Khalid's normally mild grey eyes took on a steely glint. "We're going to have to do something about that," he said without a trace of a stutter.

"If we can," Jess said with a sigh, thinking back to the fiasco of a few hours ago.

"We will," he promised her, getting carefully to his feet and laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'd suggest t-taking tomorrow off, though. I think we'd all benefit from sleeping in on comfortable beds."

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, thinking with some anticipation of the deep featherbed in her own room. "You go on in," she told him. "I'm going to stay out here a while longer."

He nodded silently and made it to the window with a minimum of slipping. Jess watched until he was through the window, then returned her gaze to the stars, thinking of unwilling partings and hearing the legends of the past unfolding in her mind in Gorion's familiar and much missed voice.


End file.
